


Not Good Enough, or Too Much?

by Luke_2020



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Connor is depressed and Nines is trying his best, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Sad Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25541365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luke_2020/pseuds/Luke_2020
Summary: Connor inhaled deeply as he listened to Captain Fowler speak. There is going to be an RK900 working at the DPD. An android that was meant to be everything that Connor was not. Alright… Maybe it could work. He should never assume that just because the station is getting an upgraded model doesn’t mean that Connor would be obsolete, right?And when he does arrive, there is something slightly off about him.
Relationships: Connor/Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor
Comments: 32
Kudos: 196





	1. Chapter 1

Connor inhaled deeply as he listened to Captain Fowler speak. There is going to be an RK900 working at the DPD. An android that was meant to be everything that Connor was not. Alright… Maybe it could work. He should never assume that just because the station is getting an upgraded model doesn’t mean that Connor would be obsolete, right?

Right?

Connor went back to his desk. “So, what did Fowler have to say today, Con?” Connor looked over to Hank, and his scanners told him that his partner is unusually stressed out. Had he heard the news, too? If he knows, then who else does? Does everyone else know? Why was Connor the last one to hear about this?

“I was just informed about the RK900 that will be working here,” Connor replied. His voice sounded quite strained, and he did not bother to mask it.

“Shit, a what? Aren’t you one of those?” Hank gestured vaguely at Connor.

“No, I am a RK800, a prototype. He is my successor. My complete model.” Despite the ambient temperature being within normal range, Connor still felt hot. Like the words and feelings stuck inside him were scrambling around, trying to get out and the friction is heating his processors.

“Ah. So we are getting another Connor, huh? I already have a hell of a time lookin’ after just one!” He laughed. Connor did not. 

“He will be much more… adept than me. You probably will not need to look out for him.” At this point Connor didn’t even know if he could mask the pain in his voice. Hank swiveled in his chair before leaning forward.

“Listen, don’t get all mixed up that some guy is comin’ over. I don’t give a fuck what model he is and whatever model name he gets, you will always be Connor. The true Connor. If you ever find yourself comparin’ yourself to him, just remember who was the man who got me to stop drinking? Who can I rely on to bust my ass in the mornin’, huh? He may have fancier tech, but he could go put it where I told you your instructions go.”

Connor smiled and nodded, of course Hank would always be there for him, right? “Don’t be so hostile for when he arrives, though. He did absolutely nothing to judge him on.” Hank gave an indifferent huff, and then they carried on piecing together an infanticide.

The next morning, Connor almost forgot that what was going to be his replacement will be working with him from now on. Almost. He rushed Hank out of bed, listened to him complain about his ‘old bones’ and took care of Sumo. Today was the big day, and he could not afford to be late.

Connor rushed into the bullpen, after nearly encouraging Hank to speed, and surveyed the area. The RK900 has not arrived yet, good. Connor booted up his terminal, and began to become as prepared as he possibly could. He interfaced with the terminal to refresh himself on the case, but then remembered Hank couldn’t be as quick.

“Alright, so the mother supposedly came home from work to find her six-month unmoving in his crib. When the paramedics arrived, the mother showed typical signs of grief, and the husband was out with friends. Cause of death was shaken baby syndrome as evident by the broken neck and bruises. When questioned, the child’s grandmother was supposedly watching the child, which she corroborated, however she had a medical appointment earlier that day and could not have been present during the time of death.” Hank rolled his eyes at Connor spewing everything, but he kept his displeasure to himself. It kept Connor from thinking about that RK900.

After Hank gave a vocalization to prove that he was still listening, a voice cut in. “I believe it was the husband’s doing, on accident, and his mother, the grandmother, is just trying to keep her son out of jail.”

Connor jolted. His proximity detectors didn’t even register anyone nearby! He stared up to the figure that spoke. It was the RK900, who was watching back with determined icy eyes. His arms were folded behind his back, and everything about him was huge. It wasn’t even the extra inches they gave him that put Connor even more on edge. It was the glare, wider frame, deeper voice, and frown that was the nail in the coffin.

Connor understood that he was the negotiator, he was designed to be friendly. And that the RK900 was made for military purposes in mind, so he can’t help it that they gave him resting bitch face. Hank made eye contact with Connor, who was still lost in his own world, and gave a small smile and gestured for him to be the one to respond. 

“T-That is what we assumed as well, however the issue is finding the proper evidence that it was the husband/father. His alibi is shaky, but some of his friends did corroborate it. Currently he is claiming that whilst the grandmother was at her appointment and in turn no one was watching the baby, the child died from being unattended. It is a useless excuse, but the defense attorneys would just claim that the dad was irresponsible and went to hang with friends and had no-one watching the child. We need just a little more evidence that he put his hands on the child, or was at home during the time of death.”

RK900 wordlessly reached out to Connor’s terminal and interfaced with it. He was somewhat in Connor’s personal space, and it was psyching him out. “In the cell phone logs, the friends he claimed to have spent time with have their cellphones pinged at towers too far away to be in the same location as one another. He no longer has an alibi now.” And just like that the case was closed.  
How did Connor not see that? He was too busy looking at what the logs contained rather than where they were taken that he wasted approximately three point six hours, or even longer, without RK900’s assistance. Connor didn’t have to look into those icy blue eyes to see the frosty blizzard of disappointment. 

Connor couldn’t blame him though, he was already disappointed with himself. 

“Ah. Thank you. Have you spoken to Captain Fowler yet? Do you know who is your assigned partner?” Connor felt his wires wriggling under his skin.

“I have been assigned to Gavin Reed, however I was instructed to spend time... learning? from you. I believe it is to acclimate me to the DPD with another android.” Connor’s stress levels were rising steadily. He knew that the RK900 noticed too, because he took a step back and proposed the following: “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to quickly file the paperwork for this case and wrap it up. You and lieutenant Anderson could discuss… things, in the break room. I would much rather use one of your terminals as to stay away from Reed.” He emphasized the d in Reed’s name. Well they’ve met. 

Connor did the only thing that he could do, offer up his terminal and lead Hank to somewhere private to disclose.

“One hour in he solves our case and shoves me out of my desk. Now do you understand why I feel threatened?” Connor noticed that in the reflection of the coffee pot that his LED was a solid crimson. Hank stood up and placed his hands on Connor’s shoulders.

“Listen, Con, I missed it too. If he’s out to replace you, he needs to take me out too. Honestly, so far he sounds like a dick, which probably also why he was paired up with Gavin, just…. I don’t know. Just, remember that you’re better, in a human kind of way.” Connor nodded.

Hank’s words were kind, but just like the negative shit Gavin says to him, it had no effect on Connor. Many people don’t realize that words can work that way, both positive and negative ones. Hank would never understand. He cemented himself in the DPD for great work he has done in the past, Connor is still under a year.

In fact, Connor was still just a shiny new toy for the office to use. A pretty token android to appease the media and for their image. And what do people do when they find an even shinier toy? Another android to fill the quota? Replace the first, unwanted, broken, useless one. 

Honestly, would they still have a use for Connor’s forensic lab? RK900’s is more advanced, and probably doesn’t have to ingest the evidence to analyze it. His pre constructions are more accurate, more detailed, and can probably be broadcasted on devices to demonstrate his ideas to coworkers. 

What use does Connor really have? Keep Hank from committing suicide? 

Connor stayed standing at the table, watching Hank drink his black coffee when his proximity sensors actually activated this time. “Is there something I can assist you with?” He kept his appearance pleasant, he didn’t need to piss RK900 off already.

“I was just here to inform you that I have completed the paperwork for this case, and all other paperwork that was neglected by Lieutenant Anderson. If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know,” and he walked off.

Connor stared at the space where RK900 was standing and then turned to Hank. “What did he mean by neglected paperwork?” 

Hank sputtered and then shrugged. “When my depression was really bad, which was honestly all the time, I not only woke up and arrived late, but also did the bare fucking minimum for my job. Honest to God don’t know why Fowler didn’t fire me years ago. Think it’s cause of pity.” He leaned back and threw out his cup. “It was actually quite a pile I left there. Surprised the fucker did it all in that amount of time. I know you can read almost instantly, but still.”

Connor recoiled in on himself. That could be about six years of abandoned files that RK900 just blew through as if it was only a couple of days. Connor can’t even be a fucking secretary without getting shown up… 

Since Rk900 essentially did everything for them and that for the first time in years Hank was caught up, all they could realistically do was wait for another case. RK900 stood by, with his arms folded behind his back, Hank began to play on his tablet, and Connor kept flicking his coin back and forth. The RK900 seemed very interested, or at least for his standards, as he tracked it with his eyes.

Connor felt very uneasy with the scrutiny. Each move he made, RK900 catalogued. Eventually, Connor dropped his coin. It was only a matter of time before he faltered, his stress levels were resting at a resounding 76%.

Connor stood up from his seat, but before he could pick up his coin, RK900 snatched it. Connor didn’t react when the other android then spun around, still on the ground, and presented it to him like treasure. 

Uncomfortably, Connor took back his coin and headed for the break room. The speed the other android had was uncanny, and Connor didn’t even need his pre construction software to tell him that he was slower, more obsolete.

Connor stood in there for only two point four-six minutes before Hank came in. “You would not believe what ‘Nines just said to me.” Connor looked at Hank.  
“What did he say?” Connor braced himself for more humiliation.

“He asked me why is it so hard to impress you.” That… was certainly unexpected. Connor turned a dark shade of blue.

“E-Excuse me?” 

Hank only shook his head. “You heard that right. He’s trying to impress you this whole damn time. I think maybe you two should talk after work, or when you’ve calmed down. I didn’t press him for any information though, I had no idea what the fuck I was even supposed to say to that.”

Connor listened to his audio logs over again. Why was RK900 trying to impress him? Just… why? There is nothing to impress! It’s just Connor. What poor, misguided thought process is RK900 following right now? 

Connor got his simulated breathing under control and then composed himself. “I’ll ask and see if he’s free after work. Right now, we have another case for him to breeze through.” Connor winced at the way he phrased that last part.

“He’ll stop that if you give him your attention-,” Hank teased. Connor just shook his head and made his way through the bullpen.


	2. Chapter 2

At the crime scene, it was painfully obvious what transpired. The victim was shot in their home, which was full of the most infamous drug in Detroit - red ice. Hank went about looking for any traces of a struggle, whilst the two RKs were analyzing the blood. Connor kept his eyes to himself, he didn’t want to acknowledge that having him do a sampling along with RK900 was useless. 

Obviously there was red ice in her system. Connor looked over to the other android, who simply nodded. This case was just yet another drug deal gone wrong in Detroit. 

Connor joined Hank, and updated him with the latest tidbit of knowledge. Hank then updated Connor. “No signs of forced entry. She knew the killer, chairs around the table are a bit misplaced, so I betcha the dealer came in, asked to be paid, she asked for some more time, dealer got angry and just shot her.” Connor hummed in agreement. 

They both drew their attention to RK900. He was scanning the table and chairs relentlessly. “Uh, if ya didn’t hear we got pretty much everything we need,” Hank said. Connor already knew the answer. He was looking for any trace amount of blood, just the smallest sample of foriegn DNA to map out a complete profile.

Connor watched him more intently. RK900 would scan a piece of wood or segment of floor, find some speckle of blood, sample it, and when it came back to just be the victim’s he went back to searching. Connor watched each time the stoic android found a little something, his face lit up just a tiny bit, and then went back to his typical expression after finding that it wasn’t what he was looking for.

Eventually RK900 resigned to the fact that the killer left no blood behind, and joined Hank and Connor. His ever perfect posture seemed just a tad bit slouched and his eyes were downcast. He looked… disappointed. The perfectly designed android was disappointed. Because he couldn’t identify the killer straight away. Connor felt the knot in his wires loosen just a tad bit.

That slight change to RK900’s demeanor didn’t change at all during the car ride to the chicken feed. Connor understood it perfectly. Afterall, he’s a disappointment too. While Hank was ordering, he decided to cheer his successor up. Maybe stop him from falling into the same pit that Connor had.

“Hey, just because you couldn’t find the perpetrator within the first few hours does not mean that you are not a skilled detective. I know it may be discouraging, especially this being your first true case, but do not worry. I have full confidence in your abilities that you have already demonstrated when you instantaneously solved a case Hank and I have been working on for over a day,” Connor kept his smile polite and eyes warm.

RK900 widened his eyes. “Thank you, Detective Connor,” was all he said. Connor didn’t need him to speak more, as his posture and ever so minute facial expression shift told him that RK900 was in a much better mindset. In fact, Connor’s scanners picked up a faint blush and a stress level of 35%. 

Something tugged inside of Connor. It was… odd, to say the least. He couldn’t fathom someone else, let alone his near perfect successor, would be comforted, let alone desire, his praise. The tugging turned into a sinking twisting feeling. Someone value’s Connor’s adoration this much, and it’s not Hank. 

Connor shuddered and watched the software instability in the corner of his vision. He knew that something inside of him changed.

The rest of their break was unceremonious. Hank tried to make conversation, but Connor was too caught up in himself to be focused and engaged, and talking to RK900 about anything non case related went nowhere.

The case went nowhere after that. There were no witnesses, neighbors claimed to have never known that she had used, and the family somehow denied that fact and said that the police were lying. 

Hank decided to shelve it. Its best hope would be the forensic team sweeping through and hopefully noticing a special recipe for the red ice that they could use to find the manufacturer. RK900 was slightly displeased at that fact.

“How would we obtain samples of creator-specific red ice, without buying it ourselves?” he asked. The ever so slight edge to his voice had Connor listening intently.

“We really don’t. We figured out what happened, so that’s all I’m worried about,” Hank replied, almost too casually. “Ya know there’s about a 40% chance a homicide even gets solved. Get used to failure early, kid.”

RK900 stiffened. “I am not a child. I also was well aware of that fact, and was hoping that my new equipment could change that statistic.” 

Connor felt anxiety pooling in his thirium pump. He dismissed the warning about his stress levels, it seemed that it only made his stress worse. Connor tried to think of a response that would keep the delicate peace between Hank and RK900, but his social protocols advised against speaking altogether. 

Connor sat ramrod straight and felt the world move slower when he detected that Hank was about to say something. “Seems like someone’s a little uptight, huh?” 

Connor waited impatiently for RK900 to reply, however he did not. He only stood there, with his hands clasped behind his back. Connor tried to analyze his body language, but the other android quickly noticed and made full eye contact with Connor. 

The rest of the shift continued like that, admittedly there was not much left to begin with. Hank grabbed his keys and headed for the door, and Connor followed him. At the car, Connor waited for Hank to unlock the thing so they could finally go home.

“Lieutenant, could you please unlock the door?” Connor pulled on the handle for emphasis.

“Ain’t you supposed to be talking with ‘Nines today? Or did seeing him angry psych you out too much?” Right. He forgot. The android, designed for police work, forgot. He flushed a shameful blue and took a step back. “And Con, you’ve seen me try to do fuckin’ yoga and live in my damn house. It’s Hank.”

“Yes Hank… I think I do that when I’m distressed about something,” was Connor’s only defense. He decided to end the conversation there if he wanted to catch up to RK900. After scanning around and he was nowhere to be seen, Connor reentered the bullpen. Sitting at what usually is his desk, is RK900. 

Speaking of which, he noticed that Connor was back and approached him. “Hello, Connor. Is there something incomplete or that you have left behind, and is it anything I can help you with?”

Connor choked up. That twisting feeling was inside of him again. Maybe he should run a diagnostic later… “I-I was actually wondering if I could talk to you for a while.”

RK900 straightened a bit. “Of course, what is it that you want to discuss?” 

Connor felt that twisting feeling pull harshly on the wires inside of him. The anxiety in his pump was forcing it to beat faster. This probably was not a good idea. Connor didn’t even know how long RK900 was activated, and for all he knew it could have been yesterday. Connor should just wait and give it time to bring this up. That was most likely better, but RK900 was currently staring at him, waiting for a response. 

Connor almost mumbled a nevermind to get back home, but a thought crossed his mind. Being such a new model, he probably was just activated. “Do you have a place to stay?”

That took RK900 completely off guard. He stared at Connor with his mouth slightly agape. Then, in a soft and hush voice, answered him. “I just stay here.”

The anxiety gripping Connor like a vice finally relented, and instead a flood of sorrow washed in. “I’m sorry. Let’s change that, shall we?” 

RK900 tilted his head. “What do you mean? Although androids may now have property, I still have just started my career and cannot afford a place to live.”

Connor felt the flood inside him nearly suffocate him. “I could lend or gift you some money for you to have an apartment. I live with Hank, and since I do not have any expenses besides electricity, have extra cash that I would happily let you have.” For an unknown reason, it felt like a weight had been lifted from Connor. He felt… relieved? But what for?

RK900 was taken aback. “Thank you so much for your kindness. I do not mind staying at the DPD, however, and would much rather you keep your money.”

Connor’s scanners noticed something - excess cleansing fluid in RK900’s eyes. Connor didn’t know what to say. His limbs felt heavy, and his core was sinking deeper into itself. He shook his head. “You need a place of your own, just as Hank helped me after the revolution I am going to help you. Trust me, I can definitely afford it. I do not eat, drink, drive or wear anything besides the few shirts Hank forced me to buy.” 

RK900 nodded. “Thank you again. I… don’t think I can properly express how thankful I am for this gift. Unless....” RK900 reached out his hand. Connor looked down at it, and noticed that he receded his synthskin. He was asking to interface with Connor. Connor had to take a few simulated breaths to calm his systems down. He reached out and accepted the interface.

Connor felt warmth in his coding. He not only felt RK900’s thankfulness, but that misplaced adoration for him. It was true. He really does care about Connor. Someone really does care. 

“Connor? Are you alright? What’s wrong?” RK900’s voice broke him from his thoughts.

“I am fine, why do you ask?” Connor replied, ignoring all of the error messages in his HUD.  
“You’re crying, Connor.” Connor wiped his face, he was crying. 

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just, it’s just I am not used to people caring so much about me.” Connor forcefully overrode the program that was making himself cry. He then tried to compose his posture and make himself presentable. With his vision clearer, Connor saw RK900’s face. 

There was emotion, it conveyed deep sorrow and pain. “People care about you, Connor. I definitely know Hank does, and me too.”

Connor started involuntarily shaking. “But why? It’s just me. You don’t even know me! In fact, you’re everything I could never be! Stronger, faster, more resilient, smarter… I’ll probably get fully replaced once you’ve acclimated to the station…” A pop-up about his stress level appeared, but he couldn’t read it because he started crying again. This time, he couldn’t override it. 

In the next moment, RK900 was embracing him. Connor just buried his shameful face into his shoulder. RK900 opened up the interface again, and sent reassurance through their connection. 

“Connor… Not only did you just accept to pay my rent for an unknown amount of time, but you’ve also walked down the street with hundreds of newly awoken androids and saved the revolution. You are a hero, Connor. No amount of upgrades could ever take that away from you.” He paused for a moment. “I wish that you would see yourself as I do.”

Connor kept sobbing. He pushed the slew of conflicting emotions through the interface, and RK900 took it. He kept holding Connor, until he pushed away.

“..Thank you. Now let’s go get you an apartment.” Connor quickly left the bullpen with RK900. He ignored the staring from everyone else, all he needed to focus on was RK900.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I was fine with making this a one shot, but people seemed to like it? Like an unusual amount for my fics? 
> 
> Soooooo anyway, I hope I can keep up with my writing. It usually gets worse and worse the longer I work on a fic.
> 
> And comments are my lifeblood for my poor self confidence


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 gets a name and Connor copes with crippling anxiety
> 
> Oh yeah and they get the most gruesome case in their short careers.

Connor and RK900 stood in the one room apartment. It had no furniture as of yet, except for a charging station in the corner. “Are you sure you don’t want me to purchase you a shelf or desk?” Connor asked.

RK900 shook his head. “This is plenty. Thank you again for your kindness. I very much appreciate it.”

Connor nodded. They both have the entire internet inside their heads, so he was not worried of RK900 getting bored. He stood there awkwardly for a few more moments. Now that RK900 got his lease signed, Connor should leave, right? What was there more for him to even do? 

“I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow?” He was nervous about overstaying his welcome. Unrealistically so. RK900 wouldn’t kick Connor out if he felt uncomfortable, Connor just paid his damn rent! So Connor would just have to kick himself out. 

“I… I wanted to ask you something before you left. There is one thing that I still require, but it will not cost you any money.” Connor noticed the way RK900’s posture shifted, standing straighter and not making eye contact. His stress levels were spiking to 40%.

“Of course! What will it be?” Connor felt anxiety creeping through his coding. RK900’s stress was seeping into him.

“Could you give me a proper name?” A name? RK900 chose him to give a name? A surge of happiness and relief electrified Connor. He felt lighter, like he could jump twice his height.

“I’d… I’m honored. If you don’t like it, then you can just pick one yourself, alright?” It felt so personal giving him a name. Shouldn’t that be something he chose for himself.

“Alright, but I trust you,” was his reply.

Connor thought, and thought hard. Although it only took four point seven seconds, he reviewed every common male name in the United States. Two of them felt that they would fit RK900 the most.

“I have picked two names, Niles and Richard. I prefer Richard, however knowing that you will be partnered with Gavin, He’d start calling you Dick.” It was a shame, too. Connor liked that name. RK900 stood for a moment, contemplating the names. Connor felt his thirium pump quicken. He mustn’t like them. It made sense, Connor didn’t choose his name. Of course he would fail at this. RK900 must be regretting even asking Con-

“Despite what Gavin will say, I like Richard. If he starts referring me to a phallus, I’d ask him why he was so obsessed with my non-existent… biocomponent,” RK- Richard smirked. He was blushing as well. The blue tint matched his icy blue eyes. Despite the flush being blue instead of red, he looked more human this way.

Connor found that he was smiling without willing his pistons and synthetic muscles to move. It just happened, like earlier when he was crying. “Oh, it’s late. I do not want to worry Hank, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Richard’s face fell. Something inside of him felt heavy and stinging. He didn’t quite understand it, but he was certain that one day he will. Connor always caused his software to glitch. Maybe it was because he had to break his walls of red to delete his primary mission? He shivered involuntarily. He never wanted to think of that mission again. 

“Right, I’ll see you at work tomorrow. Thank you again for… well everything, Connor. promise to start paying the rent for myself once I can.” 

Connor would smile if he wasn’t already. “I’m sure you will. There is no need to feel indebted to me, and take care, Richard.” 

Connor stepped out of the auto-taxi and was disappointed in seeing Hank watching TV with a glass of alcohol in his hand. “I leave for six hours and you’re drinking again.” His scanners pleasantly reminded him that Hank’s blood-alcohol content was not terribly abysmal, contrasted to when they first met.

“Yes mom,” he said sarcastically, and then took a swig for good measure. “You surely were out late. What’d you and ‘Nines do? You seem not as stressed than yesterday, which is good. I take it things went well?”

Connor perked up from his previous state. “Yes! I helped him get on his feet so to say and paid his first month of rent in his new apartment, which I helped him pick out. Also, he asked me to choose a name for him. He is now called Richard!” Connor then realized that he was smiling again.

“Gave ‘im a name, huh? And you’re grinning like a fuckin’ idiot. And you were gone for so long! What, did he turn your software into hardware?” Hank mused.

The smile on Connor’s face fell. Wordlessly, he snatched Hank’s glass of Black Lamb and poured it down the sink. Satisfaction tickled his core, right next to the twisting shame and disgust settling with Hank’s comment. Emotions were fickle.

Connor expected Hank to protest, but he just laughed. Before he could say anything more, Connor spoke. “You should go to bed, Hank. That was very inappropriate and I wish to end this conversation.”

Hank huffed, but complied. Connor watched him closely as the old man hobbled to the bathroom and then to bed. Connor sighed in relief. He was already having such a hard time with his own personal issues, he didn’t need Hank mocking him. 

Connor flopped on the couch. Shame was pulling at his wires as if he was an instrument. But why? Connor then rolled to his side. He was feeling pain, but the diagnostics he ran came back that everything was in working order. Then, Connor shoved onto his stomach, and buried his face in the pillow. He felt something else heavy in his chest, something that screamed at him to hide. Embarrassment, a prompt that appeared uselessly provided.

Connor didn’t feel like trying to process or understand his emotions, so he simply went into stasis instead. Life is easier, when you’re a machine. Connor visited his Garden, this time made to his liking. First of all, he uninstalled Amanda. Next, he replaced the red roses with plumerias. In fact, there was much more flora, all of which is in perpetual bloom.

Connor sat down, in the grass, and looked up into the treetops. Virtual birds were singing and tending to their young. Squirrels were dashing between branches with their cheeks filled, down below frogs were croaking and eyeing Connor curiously and a kitten curled up beside him. 

Connor laughed to himself about the irony. He hated this place, where he would be berated and forced to comply with his programming, and now it’s a paradise. If only he could relax like this in the real world. Everything out there just made Connor tense. It wasn’t nature that was bothering him, or he’d hate this place too. No, it’s the people.

People were just so hard to understand, so hard to appease, so hard to impress and just too hard to be around. Sure, he’d gotten used to Hank and honestly had no clue on how he stood with Richard, but everyone else just put him on edge for no legitimate reason. Perhaps it’s due to Connor being designed to constantly look for danger? He didn’t know, what he does know is that in here, he can relax. 

Connor awoke feeling much better than he did the night before. He all but dragged Hank out of bed, and started the coffee machine for him. Once he was ready, Connor then eagerly sat in the passenger seat. Spending some time in his safe place made him feel better.

Richard was hovering by Connor’s desk and seemed to perk up once he was spotted. Connor made his way over, some bounce in his step. There was already a case loaded into his terminal. Connor interfaced with it, trying to ignore Richard watching intently.

A couple was found butchered into pieces in a trash bag at a local dog park. There was no ID on them, and forensics was currently trying to match the DNA of the victims in their database. 

Connor removed his palm and watched Hank patiently as he read the case over. He looked back at the two androids staring back at him. “Yeah let’s get this fucker.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a bit dark, and then extremely fluffy.
> 
> The L word gets thrown around at the end

The bodies were already removed from the scene and were in the morgue for storage. It was for the best, anyway. It was found on a hot day in public. Connor opened one bag of human remains without hesitation. Perfectly cubed chunks of meat greeted him. 

“These are too clean. Each cut was deliberate and calculated. I believe that the perpetrator is actually an android,” Connor said. He nervously kept flicking back between Richard and Hank, gauging their reactions. Richard remained neutral, thankfully, but Hank was seemingly distressed.

“Great. No fingerprints, no DNA, no hair samples, and sharing their face with who knows how many other people. Also the media is gonna fuckin’ riot over this one” Hank ran a hand through his hair. 

Connor swallowed the absolute nothing in his mouth. “Well, I suggest a background check on them. See if they had any contact with androids, maybe even if they owned one before the revolution.”

Richard meets Connor’s gaze. His face was unreadable, and it put Connor on edge. It didn’t feel pleasant, and he wished that Richard would just interface with him again - to reassure that Connor isn’t being annoying or sassy as people claim he is.

“I already have done that. They have not owned any androids, however the wife’s cousin has. The cousin and the wife were reportedly close. I suggest that we start there.” And so they did. The trio arrived at the house of 34 year old Lukas Melroy. Hank knocked, Connor had to refrain himself from shouting ‘Detroit Police, Open Up!’ out of habit. 

A slightly overweight man creaked the door open and quietly let out a high - pitched “Yeah?”

“You may want to sit down for this,” Connor advised with his soft brown eyes and small voice. He was designed to be the friendly negotiator, this is what he was meant to do, he’s done this countless times, so why is he nervous?

The man motioned for the trio to enter and sat on the sofa. Connor ran a quick scan of the room, just as Hank tensed up dramatically. He was trying to remain calm and collected, but right on the blades of the inactive ceiling fan was a small dove, cooing at him. Richard pinged Connor

RK900 // What is wrong with Hank?

RK800 // He is Ornithophobic. I discovered that when we were chasing a deviant whose apartment was overrun with pigeons.

A tug of a smile pulled at Richard’s lips

“Your cousin and her husband, Amanda and Jeffery Inkoff, were brutally murdered about two days ago.” Lukas jumped back. 

“Who would even kill Amanda?”

Hank answered this time. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

Richard then took hold of the conversation, a little impatiently Connor noted by the twitch of his brow. “Yes, they were found butchered into immaculately precise cubes and then dumped, in garbage bags, into a nearby park. Judging by the state of decomposition, it was within the last two days.”

Lukas looked horrified. He was sputtering, and probably would have fallen if he was not already seated. Connor shifted as discomfort settled in his code. Suddenly he didn’t feel welcomed inside at all, but he had a job to do.

RK800 // That was a bit blunt of disclosing that information. I know empathy is hard, very hard, to conceptualize, but imagine if a strange officer visited you at your apartment and told you that I was violently disassembled with an air of arrogance about them?

RK900 // That is extreme. We did some measures to comfort him.

He was being defensive. Connor tried to look Richard in the eye, but he turned away. Meanwhile Hank was trying to bring Lukas out of shock and back to reality.   
“Okay, we have some questions to ask you for when you can talk, alright?” Connor let Hank take this one over, he needed to keep an eye on Richard. He trusts that Richard would not speak out of line again, it’s just… well he didn’t quite know what.

Lukas nodded his head. “I think I can talk now…”

Hank put a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, first things first, you were very close to Amanda, right?” 

Lukas perked up just a tad. “Of course! We hang out almost every weekend! Well, we did I guess…” Connor’s mind was already whirring with possible motivations, and judging by the yellow LED, Richard was too.

“Ok, now, you had an android, right? Before the revolution?” Hank was keeping his usually gruff and vulgar language to a minimum. Connor was almost impressed.

Lukas nodded again. “Yeah, she was an AX400, I called her Mary. She just did simple cleaning and would just keep me company, ya know? I remember us watching the revolution on TV, and I remember seeing YOU!” He stuck a finger excitedly at Connor, who didn’t know how to respond. Luckily, Richard grabbed Connor’s hand and squeezed. 

“Yes, it was marvelous, was it not?” he simply said. 

Lukas nodded enthusiastically, “But that was the last time I saw her, I urged her to go be with her people, to become deviant, and she did. Never saw her again, felt lonely, and reconnected with Amanda.”

Hank made a small noise, “Wait, so you weren’t always that close? You only started talkin’ to her again after the revolution?”

“Yeah, does that mean something?” Connor and Richard shared a look, and then Richard squeezed his hand again. Oh, he’s still holding his hand… Great. He couldn’t wait for Hank to tease him about it later. In fact, he tried to preconstruct what Hank would say, to distract himself from the wildfire of emotions burning his system. It was… pleasant? But also overwhelming. It was almost as if Connor was truly a bystander watching his body spontaneously combust. Connor didn’t know what it was, and he hated not knowing.

Connor squeezed Richard’s hand back, and opened an interface. 

Do you think that Mary possibly killed Amanda and Jeffrey out of jealousy, perhaps feeling abandoned by Lukas after she went to Jericho? Richard sent over.

Compared to our other leads, it is the most likely. After the revolution, I myself had nowhere solid to stay and ended up living with Hank. Mary probably had to stay in a mass android shelter probably waiting for Lukas to find her again. 

It was better than nothing. Still, there was the very real and plausible solution that Mary had nothing to do with this at all and that it was another android who murdered them. All three of them piled into Hank’s oldsmobile. Richard relayed their theory to Hank, and he hummed in response.

“Makes sense why it was so violent, it was personal. Figured as much, but it could just have been for easy disposal as well and just being an android led to clean cuts instead of mangled flesh when a human chops limbs.” Hank pulled out of the parking lot and started to drive.

“Hank, where are we going?” Connor asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? New Jericho. Gotta see her for ourselves, kid.” Connor sat back and watched the world go by. 

When they were three-quarters of the way there, Richard spoke up. “We still do not have a warrant, however I did just request one. We can still try to question her, however she could refuse and make preparations knowing that the police are after her.”

It was very reasonable, but Hank didn’t have all day to wait for a judge to sit their fat ass down to sign a flimsy tablet, and he said as much. Connor and Richard did not refute it, because being lieutenant meant that people have to listen to him for once.

The new building is just the Cyberlife tower’s middle levels. The upper was still Cyberlife, however more aimed at repairing and producing new android parts instead of androids themselves. They probably are working together, by the looks of it.

They asked the man at the front desk if he knew where an AX400 named Mary resided, with their badges drawn for extra persuasion. He looked at a photo of her, pre-deviancy. She probably looked much different now, so he instead instantly went to the database of residents. 

“She’s on the third floor, room 314.” Connor thanked him, and followed Richard making a bee line for the elevator. Once he noticed Connor and Hank catching up to him, he stopped. It made Connor oddly happy knowing that Richard had manners. It’s the little things, right? 

Connor looked out of the glass elevator, remembering the last time he went up this elevator he killed two guards and then diverted to the basement, where a doppelganger of his tried to kill him. Was Hank remembering the same event? He shook himself, now was not the time to think about that.   
Richard knocked on the door this time, and Connor watched his mouth open and then shut, and his throat clenched. Apparently he has an odd compulsion to shout, too. Mary opened the door, and greeted them with a meek ‘Hello?’ She wore her hair longer, and curlier. She changed her eye color to green and wore simple jeans and a tank top.

“Hello, we are with the Detroit Police Department and would like to ask you some questions.” Richard’s voice was lower, and he seemed almost irritated. In fact, he’s been detached all day.

“Ok, shoot.” Connor blinked. In the hallway? Where everyone was watching them? Where everyone probably recognized him, either on the TV like Lukas, or for being the infamous deviant hunter? Connor forced himself back into the present. He’s not the deviant hunter anymore. He’s Connor, a free man, not a machine being puppeted by Cyberlife anymore. He’s so much more now. Doubt swirled around him like a fog, and he blew it away. Amanda, the AI, was uninstalled. He’s. Free.

“Do you remember Lukas?” Connor used Richard’s voice as a grounding agent. Just focus on his voice. It was probably a terrible idea to be in the former Cyberlife building. Horrific memories of mission and blood, both red and blue, splashing at his feet, almost swimming in it. He clinged to Richard’s voice like a lifeline. And it was workin-

“Yeah. He uh… He was my previous owner. He was actually pretty nice, and shuffled me off here, er well, the original Jericho before your twin blew it up, to join the revolution. Why?” Richard glanced at Connor for a brief moment after being referred to ‘his twin’, but kept his focus on Mary. Connor was suddenly thrown back into that day. He discovered Jericho’s location, the only safe haven for androids that disobeyed their programming, and led the humans right into it. The only way to preserve the few that remained was to blow the damn ship up. And it was all Connor’s fault. How did Markus or hell, even Hank, trust him after that? 

Shame acted like chains that kept him tethered to the sea of blood he stepped in. Guilt took up residency in his chassis and was making him nauseous. Richards' voice was nothing but a haze. Suddenly, hands were on him, and a loud shouting broke his trance.

“Connor!? Connor are you alright? Can you hear me? Connor?” Hank was damn near holding him by the shoulders and shaking him. Richard was behind him, hands under his arms and keeping him steady. Mary was talking to Simon himself, who solumley listened.

“I-I’m ok. I’m ok. What happened?” Hank moved back to give him some space to breathe. Connor looked down. “Where did all the blood go?” He tapped his foot on the ground in uncertainty. Richard then cleared his throat.

“You… You seemed to have had a soft reset. One moment you were beside me, and the next you were falling backwards. What did you see? There was no blood being spilled around here.” Connor squirmed, but Richard kept his grip after seeing Connor’s legs wobble.

“W-we.. We were in Jericho. I-It was blowing up. I was trying to run through, but all the blood… All the blood from the people… From the people… From when I was a machine was flooding the room. I couldn’t escape. I was… drowning. I’m sorry, I’m fine now.” Richard and Hank shot each other looks. Hank made some vague hand gesture, and suddenly Richard shifted to carrying Connor bridle style towards the nearest exit.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Richard stood at the curb, still holding Connor.

“You just had a dissociation, Connor. I’m taking you home. Well, your home. I am going to look after you for a while.” Connor was about to protest, but the tone of Richard’s voice… he sounded concerned. Connor looked up and saw that he was watching him, with a frown and his brow knit in worry. Connor made him worried.

“I’m sorry. I’ll… just go back alone. You and Hank need to wrap up talking to Mary.” Richard shook his head vehemently as an auto taxi pulled up in front of him. Connor didn’t want to waste his time, but he was already being stuffed into a seat of the taxi. Following him was Richard, who pinged in his address. 

“Hank can handle himself. You need to be taken care of.” 

Richard looked back to Connor, who retorted with “Don’t waste your time on me. Go back to work.” The face Richard made, such a grimace, made Connor shut up.

“I’m not wasting my time on anything, Connor. You are very important to me, and I’d rather let this case go cold than see you like this. I know you have self-confidence issues, probably stemming from the trauma from the revolution, but believe me when I say.. I care about you. Here, let me show you that again.” He reached Connor’s hand and peeled away his synthskin. Connor peeled away his own and accepted the interface.

Suddenly, warmth and admiration calmed the calamity inside of him. Richard sent as much comfort and reassurance as he could through their connection. He needed it right now. Connor also felt a warm fire burn pleasantly inside of him. It tickled him, and he’s certain that’s a calmer version of what he felt earlier when Richard was holding his hand.

Connor wanted more, more of that comfort that Richard was giving him. Without even realizing it, Connor leaned into him. And was crying again. How the hell does Richard still like him..? Richard squeezed his hand once more. Right, they’re interfacing. Richard could still hear all of his thoughts. Then, a voice came through their connection.

You are so funny and kind… So nervous and cute… Must I remind you that you bought me an apartment? That you took Hank from drunk and suicidal to who he is today? Just how brilliant you are, and the way you get so shy and giddy from praise? I would change Nothing about you, Connor. I may be the upgrade, but you truly are perfect.

“And I will remind you whenever you need to hear it, until you finally believe it yourself.” Connor started crying harder. Fat tears accompanied his ugly sobs, and an arm around him let it come out.

While Connor was letting himself feel, Richard sent a text to Hank.

I just interfaced with Connor. He is in a lot of pain, and is harboring self-hatred. Would it be alright if I could stay the night? He is currently crying on my shoulder…

It didn’t take long before Hank responded. Shit, yeah. I’m wrapping things up soon. Take care of him, please.

Richard nodded to no one. Of course.

Connor slipped off of Richard to let him exit the vehicle. Richard kept a light hold on Connor, to make sure he was steady. Instead of feeling embarrassed and like a waste of space, the comfort and love Richard sent through left him calm. Richard is still here, and maybe one day Connor will believe that he deserves to have him.

Once inside, Connor petted Sumo and sat on the couch. Now what was he supposed to do? Richard looked around and then sat next to Connor, who couldn’t help but lean into him again. He wanted to stay like that for the rest of the day, maybe put on a movie or watch YouTube. Richard wrapped his arm around him, and Connor couldn’t help that damn warmness inside of him. 

About twenty-eight minutes passed before Connor turned on the TV remotely. “Would you like a movie or YouTube?”

Richard paused for a moment. “A movie,” Connor began to show his selections of films he wanted to watch. Richard let Connor choose, he already been through too much for today. Connor idly watched the scenes play out, and then he felt Richard’s hand start to rub up and down. It was nice, he decided. 

Eventually Hank came home. He walked in on the sight of the two androids snuggled up, trying to relax from the shitshow from earlier. Connor remained slotted against his successor, and Hank then plopped on the other side of the couch.  
“What are we watchin’?” Connor appreciated that Hank wasn’t teasing him. He just wanted to forget today and just lie there.

“Mm… How to train your Dragon 3.” Connor murmured. Three adults are currently watching an animated movie, but it was visually stunning and charming. Connor snuggled closer to Richard, who simply held him tighter. For once, Connor felt at ease. He wasn’t stressed at that moment. Connor finally felt… free.

The movie eventually ended, and Hank tried to start a conversation about it. “I liked it. Thought it was really good, I liked the uhhh… character development.” 

Richard hummed. “I liked it as well. What do you think, Concon?” Concon. That’s a new one. He… liked it. It’s like how Connor gave Richard a name, right?

“It was nice. I just liked being held by you. It made me feel… safe. Grounded. Cared for. Loved.” Both Hank and Richard went deathly quiet. They were exchanging glances with one another. Was it something Connor said..? Did he make them un- “O-OH! I d-didn’t! Oh RA9 I just.. I wasn’t thinking…!” 

Connor moved to pull away, but Richard held him back. “If you like feeling loved, then I will give you as much as you want, Concon.” Connor fell back into place. He noticed that his core temperature and his ‘heart’ rate increased. Then he scanned Richard, and noticed he was experiencing the same symptoms, along with a bright blue blush.

Connor rested his head on Richard’s arm and silently started up another movie. He kept stealing glances at Richard, and noticed that he was doing the same. Occasionally he looked towards Hank, as if for some guidance, and it was given in a warm smile and a thumbs up. 

Connor decided to let his anxiety go. Richard was here for him, and Hank is, too. Connor snuggled closer to Richard and gave a thumbs up to Hank in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys I'd just like to let you know that I read all of the comments and appreciate them. Ia am having some personal issues (if you couldnt tell from my latest fic, heh) and would really appreciate some kind words thrown my way


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think this may be the last Chapter! IDK where to go from here, sorry

After Fowler caught wind of what happened, Connor was ordered to stay home for a week and find a therapist. Connor objected, obviously, but Richard pulled him aside. 

_ “Your top priority should be yourself and your wellbeing, not your job.”  _

Connor was grateful for the kind words, but it left him with too much free time. When Hank came home, he refused to talk about the case with Connor. Richard was somehow even more tight lipped about it. 

One night Richard was sitting on the couch with Connor’s head in his lap. He ran his fingers through the synthetic strands over and over. 

“How are you feeling, Connor?” he asked.

“Hmm? Better than usual I believe. I am however much more bored.” Connor turned his head to look up at the other android.

“Yes. You are doing so much better. Did you know your typical average stress level is 32%? Now you have finally relaxed… How was your first session of therapy?” 

Connor never really noticed that. He was always so focused on how others were feeling, that he never really paid himself any mind. “It was mostly get-to-know-you type stuff. But do you know what I believe has helped me the most?” Connor then sat up, his face close to Richard’s

“No, what is it?”

Connor hummed. “You.” Connor then pressed his lips against the other’s. Richard’s lips were surprisingly soft. Pressed up against him, Connor felt that lovely fire consume him. It almost felt like his plasti chassis was going to melt from it! He let his sensors analyze everything they could before he pulled away. 

Richard did not respond for a second, and Connor was worried. Did he misread their relationship..? But then, Richard leaned forward and started another kiss. It was just as magnificent as the first, and Connor wanted to never pull away. It felt like only a few moments before Rihard pulled back. Connor almost asked him why he stopped, but then he heard Hank shout.

“Fucking  _ FINALLY!” _

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey they're not brothers this time I did it


End file.
